//------------------------------//
// 39 - Railroading 
// Story: Gladiator 
// by Not_A_Hat 
//------------------------------//

"Oh, that's good." I slurped my coffee, an icy, creamy blend from Sugarcube Corner. "Want some?" I offered the thermos to Applejack, who accepted cautiously. We were headed to Canterlot on the early morning train. Outside, the mist was burning off the green hills, promising another scorching summer day.
 
"Mmm, that's mighty fine." She sipped, then poured some into a paper cup from the water cooler. "How'd you keep it icy?"
 
"It's the bottle." I tapped my metal vacuum flask, one of the few artifacts Luna had recovered for me. "Well insulated."
 
"If I may?" Rarity held out a hoof, and I passed the bottle. She poured a bit and sipped. "Blech. Wes, I thought you liked sugar in your coffee?"
 
"Not anymore!" I grinned widely. "It's been nearly a month since anything dangerous or magical happened to me, even by accident. My synchronization with Twilight is actually decreasing!"
 
"Good?" Applejack ventured, cautiously.
 
"Great!" I nodded. "If it continues like this, I might actually finish healing. That…" I paused, thinking back on everything I'd been through. "That would feel like actually accomplishing something. I'd be, well, getting better. Or something. I don't know." I deflated. "Twilight would be safer at least."
 
"Good, then." Applejack nodded decisively. "Good for both of you. I can drink to that." She raised her coffee cup in a toast. I tapped the lip of my thermos to it.
 
"Hey." I shook the bottle. "Rarity, I thought you didn't want any?"
 
"Hmm?" She sipped from a full cup. "I said no such thing. I prefer my coffee with sugar. But I'm not the sort to turn down caffeine."
 
"Oh." I took another sip, and shrugged. Any day Rarity accepted a gift without complaining was a good day.
 
"Interesting thing, though," she continued, "Sweetie Belle said that Diamond Tiara came to school covered in green spots the other day."
 
"Really?" I replied blandly.
 
"Indeed. It's almost like somepony snuck into the schoolhouse, hid a note in her desk baiting her to a certain spot, and then trapped that spot with pokeweed. Or at least, that's what Pinkie claims."
 
"Really."
 
"Wes, are you trying not to laugh?"
 
"What? How did you-"
 
"Gotcha!"
 
"Dang it!"
 



 
"So, meet back here at four?" Rarity was clearly eager to leave. Applejack and I nodded. "Well then, au~revoir!" she sang, turning away from the station with a porter and a cart full of luggage in tow. I yawned and stretched; trains, even though I got to sit, were exhausting.
 
"Well, I dunno what you're thinking." I nodded to Applejack. "I've got paperwork to do for my immigration. I thought the Princess was joking, but apparently I really do need to be 'alphabetized', whatever that means. I'm headed to the library. You're welcome along if you like, but it'll probably be boring."
 
"Ah'll walk with you, at least."
 
"Sure." We set off down the cobblestone streets, pacing in companionable silence. I occasionally checked the directions I'd been sent.
 
"Watch out!" I put a hand in front of Applejack, stopping her just before she stepped in front of a cart.
 
"Sorry." She shook her head as if to clear it. "Ah'm a little out of it."
 
"Not feeling good?"
 
"Lots on my mind."
 
"Um. Well, if you want someone to listen, I'll give it a shot."
 
"It's…" She sighed. "Well, it's complicated."
 
"I feel ya." I nodded back, and we started crossing as the traffic cleared. "Sometimes I feel like my life is one huge jumble of nonsense." I shrugged. "I try to take each day as it comes, but that doesn't make it sensible. Seriously, though; sometimes talking helps. I can't promise I'll be as empathic as Pinkie, or as kind as Fluttershy, but I can be pretty quiet. If that's what you need."
 
"Maybe, Wes. Maybe." We fell into silence again, and I was beginning to wonder if that was all of it. "Ah just don't know. You know me, at least a little. Right?"
 
"I'd like to say so." I shrugged. "I mean, how much can you really know anyone? But we've spent some time together. You seem pretty straightforward, and I've always found that refreshing."
 
"Sure. The honesty. It's my thing." She gave a proud nod, but then glanced down uncertainly. "But, well…have you ever wondered?"
 
"About?"
 
"The honesty thing. You know each of us Elements are the way we are for a reason. You've seen some of that, what we've told you."
 
"Have I ever wondered why you're honest?" I paused. "I thought you got it from your family."
 
"Oh, Ah do." We turned a corner and I gazed upwards. The castle towered in the distance, high above our heads. I tried to focus on the balcony of the highest tower, where Celestia and Luna managed the sky, but it was too far.
 
"Still," Applejack resumed. "The reason it's important to me. You know, family hasn't always been my heart."
 
"Hmm." I thought back to what I'd heard from the CMC, about how their sisters got their cutie marks, and nodded.
 
"You seem like a sharp guy, Wes. I've never been good at reading you but you're a quick study. You ever notice how I can spot a lie from a mile away?"
 
"Mmhmm." I nodded again. Applejack's truth-sense was uncanny.
 
"Ever wonder about that?"
 
"Not particularly." I was beginning to feel a little uneasy about where this was going, but digging for answers would be rude. Besides, she was still offering. "I figured you got it from your Element."
 
"Pfaw." She laughed, a little harsh. "Ah thought you'd catch on, if anypony did. Any of the others get something like that? A superpower from those dinky gems?"
 
"No." I was a little surprised; I'd never actually thought about that. None of the others, even Twilight, had been affected by their elements in that way. All of their talents were innate; the Elements chose them because of who they were, instead of shaping them into what was needed.
 
"Tell me this, Wes. What sort of pony learns best to spot a liar? An honest one, or a crooked one?"
 
"…a crook," I said quietly.
 
"Well."
 
"But…" I paused. "Isn't reading hearts an earth pony talent?"
 
"Right on. But like any sort of thing, it won't do a whit of good if you don't train it." Applejack sighed. I glanced at my directions again; we were getting close. I hesitated.
 
"Listen, Applejack…we're nearly there, but I think this is important. Let's keep walking."
 
"Hrm…" She rubbed her head, thinking. "Fine. You're right; Ah ought to say my piece plain, and now's as good a time as any. You ever wonder why I invited myself along on this little trip?"
 
"Some." I admitted. We turned left I figured we could keep walking around the block. It was a nice day, and we'd been sitting long enough. "I mean, you said you knew helpful ponies. That satisfied me."
 
"And Ah do. Gah." She sighed. "Listen, this is going to be one twisted tale when it all comes out, and Ah'm sick to death of dancing around the issue. Here it is, strait'n'all. You know I went to Manehatten when I was a filly?" I nodded; I'd heard the story. "Ah stayed with my family, the Oranges. Nice ponies, but full of frills and frippery. Took me a while to figure out Ah didn't fit there. Thing is, while the idea 'go home' is a simple one, that don't make it easy to face. It wasn't until Rainbow's little show that Ah actually did. But Ah knew long before that, deep in me, that Ah didn't belong in the Oranges world. Truth is Ah spent plenty of time playing truant, running away, getting mixed up in bad business and hanging around in poor company. Ah made a bit of a name for myself."
 
"You were…" I thought, trying to place the image that was building. "You were a rebel? An outcast?"
 
"Ah was in a gang."
 
At that, I stopped walking. Applejack glanced back, apprehension on her face.
 
"Sorry!" I stepped forward again. "I don't…I mean, I'm not…Sorry." I waved my hands. "I won't judge you. I can tell relating this is tough. But the idea of you in a gang…it's a bit of a stretch." I thought back to our last battle, where Applejack had acquitted herself fiercely and effectively. "Is that where you learned to fight?"
 
"Hah, yeah. School of hard knocks, Ah've always said. That's the truth."
 
"Wow. That's wild."
 
"Maybe. Maybe not. Ah ain't quite done." She shook her head glumly. "Manehatten, you may have heard tell, is a city of favors."
 
"Uhuh."
 
"Well, this isn't so widely known, but a lot of that comes from the few ponies who really run the city. They own the land, they tax the rich hard and the poor harder, they buck Celestia's rule as best they can, and…" She swallowed. "They run the gangs."
 
"You're telling me Manehatten is run by the mob?"
 
"Huh. Mob. Not a bad way to say it. Hmm." She shrugged. "Well, maybe run ain't quite right, either. They can't make the Princess angry enough to actually act. Nopony ain't ready for that."
 
"Heh. Sure."
 
"So, they keep stuff atop the counter as best they can. But the underbelly of that city is seedy and rank, and for a while, I did my best to fit right in. Didn't do too  poorly, either, in part on account of my family."
 
"How's that factor?"
 
"You ever think of what that place is called?"
 
"The…" I paused. "The Big Apple." We walked in silence for a bit. "Wait." I finally found a wall to lean against, and tipped my head back to the sky. "You're saying, you're related to one of these mob lords?"
 
"Mah uncle."
 
"Mister Orange?"
 
"Wrong way. Orange is my mom's brother."
 
"Oh." Pony names still confused me. There didn't seem to be any sort of hard and fast rule to how they worked, how they changed, or what they really meant. "So…think he'd help us?"
 
"Sure. Family." She tipped her Stetson low over her eyes. "If he ain't the one troubling your friend Sunset."
 
"Oh."
 
"Right. Well, Ah did my share of stupid, dangerous, and just plain stuff wrong back in the day. Picked up a knack for lyin', and a real appreciation for the truth. Ah put it behind me when I headed home, and I'd like to think of myself as a new pony. Ah'm Honesty now, and Ah mean to stay that way. But you ought to know, I figured. Maybe I'll talk myself around to telling Rarity, as well." She sighed, but it seemed some of the weight had lifted from her strong back.
 
"Applejack?"
 
"Yeah?"
 
"Thanks."

We returned in silence, while I tried to digest what I'd been told. As grateful as I was for Applejack's confidence, I was having trouble squaring my image of the straightforward, strong and honest mare with the confession she'd made. Still, I didn't doubt her for a minute. If Applejack said it, it could be trusted. If honesty was something she chose, instead of just another habit… Well, that simply made her more true, not less.
 
It didn't take long to reach the Archive, a towering building with tall windows and flying buttresses. It was magnificently made and elegantly designed. I pushed open the tall doors and walked into a sombre silence smelling of dust motes and sweet ink. I grinned; libraries smelled the same everywhere.
 
"Morning," I greeted the receptionist quietly. The carpet on the floor, the narrow, book-lined spaces between the shelves, the thick, flowing tapestries on the walls gave the whole place a muffled feeling. Sound was eaten, so best hold your stillness close.
 
"Barely." He grinned back. "Welcome to the Canterlot Archives. Can I help you?"
 
"Please and thanks." I pulled out my withdrawal slip; it was dog-eared, but still legible. "I need to visit the Canterlot Intelligence Archive, to be alphabetized." He pulled his glasses down, and inspected it, before pushing it back.
 
"And the lady?" He turned to Applejack.
 
"She's with me."
 
"Sorry, but-" he paused, as he caught sight of her cutie mark. "Hold on a moment." He shuffled through his papers, before checking her against something. "Ah, Applejack. I apologize; I should have recognized one of the Elements. Everything seems to be in order; you're free to go in." He swung up part of the desk, and motioned us towards a door behind the barricade. I proceeded cautiously through.
 
"Wes, what in tarnation is going on here?" Applejack whispered to me, as we followed the path we'd been set on. It lead through a bewildering labyrinth; we went up and down stairs, across galleries, even outside and through a balcony once.
 
"No idea." I shrugged. "I thought this was a prank Celestia played on me, until she said I really did need to show up. Ever since, it's been getting weirder and weirder."
 
"Ah'll say."
 
"Oh." I stopped. We were at the end of a wide, bright hall. Arches marched the walls, frosted windows letting in diffuse sunlight. A pair of ponikins, decked in ancient ornamental armor, stood on both sides of a riveted oak door with a plaque reading ‘Canterlot Intelligence Archive’. "Well, maybe we can find out." I stepped up, rapped once, and pushed the door open. Applejack followed cautiously as I passed through.
 
Inside, was…an office. Or something very like one. It was just as wide and airy as the hall, with light stone floors, swathes of royal blue carpet, and expansive frosted windows. Desks circled the edge, ranging from scrupulously neat to nearly invisible under piles and heaps of paper. The center of the room held several small tables with pony-cushions and beanbags scattered amongst. The whole place gave the impression of being a small startup business, or a casual, family-run company. A few ponies were working here and there; in the center of the room a few chatted quietly over tea, with folders of paper and an inkpot. Everypony fell quiet as we entered and the ones at their desks looked up, curious about the hush.
 
"Um, hi." I coughed. "I'm Wesley Kilmer. Celestia asked me to report here? Something about being alphabetized?"
 
"Oh, really." One of the ponies in the center stood. He was very suave, with a bowtie, a tiny moustache, and a cutie mark of three small crowns. "Did the Princess tell anypony here?" He glanced around the room, receiving only shakes and negations. He sighed. "I humbly apologize, Mister Kilmer. I'm Fancy Pants. We were told to expect you, but our dear Princess didn't see fit to say when. May I see your withdrawal slip?" I wordlessly handed it over. He glanced across it and handed it back. "Fleur, dear, would you please open an entry for Mister Kilmer? And you must be the Element of Honesty, correct? Applejack?" He turned to Applejack, who nodded.
 
"Of course, Fancy." A unicorn mare, working at one of the desks, turned to a nearby file and started rifling through it. "Could you tell me your IPBN, Mister Kilmer?"
 
"Call me Wes." I read my file number off my card. "Sorry." I grimaced. "I didn't actually know I would be coming today. It's all a bit off-the-cuff."
 
"Well. That's understandable. And it's not really a problem." Fancy Pants sighed. "Come sit with us, both of you. We can talk a bit. I assume, from our Princess' usual methods, you've been told nothing?"
 
"Nothing at all." I sat cross-legged on a beanbag and accepted a cup of tea. Several of the desk-workers wrapped up what they were doing and joined us.
 
"Typical. Absolutely typical." Fancy Pants sighed, and several other ponies muttered.
 
"Really, don't make such a big deal out of it." A nearby pegasus shrugged. "It's our job to keep her informed, not the other way around."
 
"Wait." I nearly dropped my cup, as several things started to click for me. The office. The reclusive, close-knit feeling. Acronyms. Internal Peacekeeping Bureau Number - IPBN. Canterlot Intelligence Archive - CIA. Keeping the Princess informed. Suddenly, things started making a bit more sense.
 
"Celestia made me a spy?"
 
"Pfff." One of the nearby ponies laughed. "Spy is such a harsh word. We prefer Intelligence Operatives. Anyways, you didn't think it was your guard membership that gave you a security clearance, did you?"
 
"Well…" I sipped my tea, mind whirling. "Actually, I did. This is a bit of a shock."
 
"Understandable." Fancy Pants shrugged. "Celestia sprang it on me unexpectedly as well." He passed me a tray of cookies. "Anyways, you probably have  questions. I'll see what I can answer if you like."
 
"Um." I stopped. "Well, yeah. First off, how did you know I was in the guard?" My host cocked an eyebrow, surprised by such a simple question.
 
"Who do you think compiled that resography report for you?" He shrugged. "Suffice to say, 'knowing' is our business and we're good at it."
 
"Huh." I put my tea down, questions bubbling in my brain. This could take a while.
 



 
"Sorry, but we really do need to get moving." I shrugged apologetically and Applejack nodded. We had spent the last few hours drinking tea and learning all we could about Canterlot society and the secret operations of the Intelligence Archive. They were many and varied, but most of them were also quite subtle. The effects were long-lasting and intricate, and could be hard to spot. On the  other hand, they were also hard to stop, or even notice, if you didn't know where to look. A very effective operation, when considered on the scale of decades.
 
"You two are headed to Manehatten, correct?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"Well, this is somewhat irregular, though that could be said about everything involving you…nevertheless, we have an operation in Manehatten that would benefit significantly from your aid. After your personal business is concluded, could you work with us?"
 
"I don't see why not. But…why be so polite about it? Can't you just order me to? Aren't you the boss here?"
 
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Fancy Pants gave me a puzzled look as he cleared away the tea service and led us towards the door. "No, nopony but the Princess is in charge. We sometimes operate under strict rules in the field, but in this room we are equals. We're not the army, we're not the police, we're not at war; this is simply a gathering of like-minded individuals, hoping to serve Celestia and advance the peace and prosperity of Equestria as best we can."
 
"Huh."
 
"That being said, if you do cooperate with us on this operation, you will be a field agent and you will be assigned a handler, who will direct you according to our goals."
 
"I could deal with that, I think. But what's going on?"
 
"We're moving against one of the criminal elements in the city."
 
"Oh." I was faintly surprised; I hadn't learned about the mobs of Manehatten until just now, but they seemed to be a fairly big deal.
 
"Who?" Applejack had been mostly silent, but didn't hesitate to interject.
 
"The Tweed family."
 
"They're nasty business." She gave Fancy Pants a flat stare. "What're you planning for my friend?"
 
"Oh, nothing dangerous!" The unicorn assured her, hurriedly. "We've…well, we're buying a painting."
 
"That's it?"
 
"I'm convinced it will be enough." He straightened his bowtie. "The real problem with this class of criminal is that they're the best, and often, actually finding evidence is nearly impossible. Al-Capony, despite being a kingpin and a gangster, was indicted on charges of tax evasion! That's all we could pin to him!" He waved a foreleg and sighed. "The Tweeds are just as clean. But something interesting is happening, and it gives us opportunities." He lowered his voice as the path we were on passed over a public section of the Archive, and several ponies were moving through the stacks below.
 
"For some reason, a craze is sweeping the city. Certain groups are frantically acquiring art, all paintings from very specific artists and times. Several patrons have opened their collections because of this, displaying and selling pieces that haven't been seen for decades. It's possible some are even trying to fuel the movement, hoping to boost prices higher. Whatever the reason, it's brought a swarm of auctions, which in turn, have attracted a herd of entrepreneurs, con artists, collectors, critics, and the Families."
 
"And that's a good thing?" I asked cautiously.
 
"Indeed, although it's not immediately obvious. We have unparalleled freedom to act."
 
"So, you-sorry, we- are buying a painting."
 
"Ah, yes. The operation. Indeed, that's our objective. We have very reliable information that a painting by Subdued Palette is going up for auction in a few days. If our projections are correct, this sale will spark an avalanche of bidding. Palette is not particularly famous, but her era is right to trigger the trend. If we can acquire the painting, we may be able discover what the fuss is about by investigating it. More than that, though, it's quite likely the Tweeds will attempt to steal the painting, especially if they lose the auction. If they move and we can prove it, we'll have an opening to investigate them."
 
"Clever." Applejack nodded.
 
"You really think so?" He straightened his tie again, an affectation I was beginning to associate with pride. "The plan was mostly mine and Fleurs. I thought it subtle, myself."
 
"Sure, it's neat." I shrugged. "But why do you need my help?"
 
"Oh, of course. Two reasons. Firstly, all our operatives free to act now are already known to the Families." He sighed. "If Fleur or myself were put on point, we would be spotted instantly, and the Tweeds wouldn't even dream of moving outside the law. Our informer would do it, but that would jeopardize her position. Secondly, according to your file, you know how to fight."
 
"Some," I said. Applejack snorted, giving me a scathing glance. "Well, Ok. I'm pretty good."
 
"Be that as it may, we think you know enough to keep yourself safe if the need arises. The Tweeds may be powerful, but they won't be moving en masse. You would have to deal with only a few ponies, although they may be well trained. I'm confident you could escape easily and safely."
 
"Probably." I nodded. I was pretty good at running away, and I could defend myself if need be. "Just, I'm not really sure what I'm getting into, meeting my friend. It's possible I'll be in over my head and can't assist you."
 
"Well, let us know." He pulled a slim wooden case from his pocket and passed it to me. "As an operative this will let you connect with us. There are protocols, of course; read the instructions carefully. Let us know if you're able to help, and we'll be ready to move."
 
"Sure." I nodded to the librarian at the desk as Fancy Pants saw us out. I breathed a deep sigh as the Archive doors closed behind me.
 
"Well, that was unexpected."
 
"No kidding." Applejack heaved a matching sigh.
 
"Now." I turned towards the station. "The only question is, what do we tell Rarity?"
 
"Huh?" Applejack started, and gave me a shocked look. "The truth! What else?"
 
"Hah." I smiled ruefully. "Of course." Really, there wasn't any other option. But how much trouble would this cause? I pictured Rarity's response and shook my head. "At least I don't have to tell Rainbow I'm actually a spy."
 
"Pfff." Applejack giggled. "True."